


Past and Present Converge; the gift of the Future

by hishirin



Category: Noli Me Tangere & Related Works - José Rizal
Genre: Inspired by my awesome friend with artistic talents, M/M, Might be OOC, This might be boring sorry, birthday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-16 00:23:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3467516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hishirin/pseuds/hishirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Crisostomo coming home to the Philippines after several years of not returning to his motherland. He met the person he least expected to met in this timeline. </p>
<p>Aaannddd the title has nothing to do with the fic I think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Past and Present Converge; the gift of the Future

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic made out an art gift that a friend of mine gave me (you know who you are, thank you for being my muse! :D ) as well as my interpretations to her drawing. The Noli and El Fili verse are slightly altered to fit the idea I have in mind. PLease bear with the typos and grammatical errors in this. I have no current beta reader to proof read this for me (but I proof read this a bit) and I hope you enjoy, despite the lame ending (spoilers!)
> 
> Italic words- memories 
> 
> Disclaimer :: I own nothing but the plot, all belongs to the fantastic renaissance man Dr. Jose Rizal
> 
> Warnings :: Bashing of the immoral Spaniards like in the books, typos, grammar errors, OOC, lame- ish ending

**10:30 A.M , Tuesday, March 02 20XX**  
  
Crisostomo takes his first step on the ground of his motherland in the span of fifteen years, almost growing up in Germany and almost a foreigner to his own country. He never visited the Philippines, not even once, in that time span, a thing he regrets and ashamed of. He walks to the waiting area where he is supposed to wait for his father to pick him up. He gets his bag from the conveyor belt and promptly sat down to the nearest chairs, setting his things down to get a quick power nap.  
  
Crisostomo doesn't like riding the planes, simply because he feels uneasy in them, shifting in his seat from time to time, sweating and nervous. It was a good thing that he has no seat mate or else they'd be pissed at him for disrupting their time to enjoy the flight. He should have taken the ship instead, if his father didn't insist on making him ride the plane, God knows why. As a result, he barely had time to rest during the lengthy flight, and when he closed his eyes, he almost lost consciousness immediately, if not for the fact that his phone vibrated violently inside his jeans pocket. With a quiet groan, he opens his tired eyes and takes his phone out of his pocket, reading the text message from his father, telling him to meet him outside the airport. He gathers his things and suppressed a yawn escaping from his lips; believing that if he does, he might feel more tired than ever. Perhaps he is having a jet lag, with the seven hour time difference between Philippines and Germany. Fortunately he has some medicine to at least relieve the jet lag sensation occurring inside his body, deciding to take it later when he gets inside the car and had settled in. He also had to catch up with bonding with his family and close friend Maria Clara, whom he had a squish or a platonic crush on when they were younger, before leaving the Philippines when he was ten years old. He could still speak and understand Filipino, though it might sound awkward compared on how he speaks in German, as his Germanic tongue fluent and smooth; seemingly like he is _actually_ a German with Asian blood.  
  
After several years staying in Germany and basically almost being his motherland, he couldn't help but to miss his _original_ motherland, the Philippines, especially his family. They sometimes fly to Germany to be with him on holidays, and just use Skype or phone calls to still have connection with each other,  but he misses the moments when he was still a lad, climbing the trees, playing hopscotch, hide and seek, _dama_ and _sungka_. These are reasons why he decided long ago that when he finished his studies here in Germany and worked for a year, he would go back to the Philippines to spend time with his real family. He had discussed this with his foster parents who supported him throughout his decisions and Crisostomo treats him like his second family. His foster brother, Ludwig, actually didn't want him to go but he had made up his mind and there is no way he's changing it.  
  
Recalling all his childhood memories here in the Philippines and his memories in Germany was brings a fond smile on his face, momentarily forgetting his jet lag, until he snaps out of it and continues on walking towards to the desired location when his eyes landed on a man walking to the opposite direction, stopping in front of him with a blank look on his face. Abruptly, Crisostomo halts his steps and stares at the person in front of him, wondering why he suddenly stopped for this stranger.  
  
The said stranger looks at him, expression unchanging, making an eye contact with Crisostomo. Crisostomo averts his gaze for a bit before looking at him again, straight in the eye, feeling the infamous déjà vu and wondering where he had met this man before.

He was about to give up and never mind the man, stop bothering him and go on his merry way, when a sudden wave of black and white, faded out and blurred memories invade his brain, getting clearer and clearer by each passing second. It was as if he is watching a silent movie with fast forwarded scenes, seemingly like a sharp blur, but it is enough to make him remember his weird dreams at some nights, as a man he had never met before, and with this stranger standing in front of him.

_“Be careful my lord, someone is plotting your murder, do not, at any cost, come near the stone; it will be you’re the cause of your untimely death.”_

* * *

_“I wish to join my brothers in battle, and to do so, you must forget about me, and flee from the motherland, which will soon be the land of bloody carnage, where I cannot guarantee your safety or mine.” Elias tells him, rowing the paddles slowly, seated in the boat he had prepared for the evening so that he could talk to Crisostomo without worrying that someone might overhear or eavesdrop._

* * *

_“Y-YOU…! THE REASON OF MY FAMILY’S MISFORTUNE AND DOWNFALL! IT WAS BECAUSE OF YOUR ANCESTOR WHO CONDEMNED MINE!” Elias shouted, face flushed in fury, as he throws the papers and left in cold blood._

* * *

_“E-Elias, y-you can’t…! Don’t sacrifice your life for me!” Crisostomo protests, getting up from his bed made out of haystack. The other man gives him a sad smile and a gesture of farewell. “I am indebted to you eternally, my lord, and I have sworn to protect you to the very end, even if I have to offer my life.”_

_“Y-you are free from my service Elias, you don’t have to do this. I am not your master; you need not to call me your lord. I am simply your friend, and as your friend, I forbid you to do this foolishness!” Crisostomo tells him defiantly, lips drawn into a thin line, “Escape with me Elias. We could flee the country together, I could be your brother, your family, and you don’t have to waste your life because of this!”_

_“I politely decline your offer my l—“_

_“Call me Crisostomo, for God’s sake!”_

_“Very well then, I decline your offer Crisostomo. I rather die for you and for my country, than live as a coward in foreign land.”_

_“You’re not a coward Elias, you had never been. Please, stop this.” Crisostomo begs, getting a hold of the other’s wrist tightly, never letting go, “d-don’t… Don’t be my father who died without me knowing, where I selfishly lived in a life of ignorance and bliss.”_

_The shouts of the guardia civil are getting louder and the hurried footsteps they took are getting faster and faster. They don’t have much time, and Elias must make his final decision. A decision that in a first place, never wavered. A man as great as Crisostomo Ibarra do_ not _deserved to die in a land stained with filth like this, where the scrofulous people are being revered as the messengers of the Lord, where the atrocious officials live to please the oppressors and their regime of terror . He is worth much more than that. Elias believes that Crisostomo is the ray of hope of their weeping motherland, the oppressed and abused Philippines under the cruel rule of Spain._

_With a harsh and swift movement, he releases his wrist from Crisostomo’s tight grip and pushes him down the bed of haystack, before diving into the freezing water, and hoping to be mistaken as Don Ibarra. And they, indeed, mistook him for being the young don started firing the gun towards him, as the boat gently gets farther and farther to Elias, Crisostomo feels helpless once again._

_Like watching a nightmare reoccurring, except that this is a different person, and a different reason._

_And just like what happened to his father, his heart cries for justice and vengeance, with everything being stripped away from him slowly, all the people he loves the most, everything that is Juan Crisostomo Ibarra, withering away like petals of flowers wilting, and blending in the background._

_The end of Juan Crisostomo Ibarra’s story and the birth of a man named Simoun._

* * *

_With a hard and cold expression plastered on his face, Simoun hands over the lamp to Basilio, telling him what to do before leaving the young man to his own devices and join the celebrate for a while._

_He smiles insincerely and greets the newlywed couple; hatred and vengeance swell his heart, directed to the people who caused his downfall in his previous life in the first place. Tonight will be the night he had been preparing for ages; the night where the battle cry of the oppressed Indios will be heard until miles away, where the first movement of revolution will take place. The first step to the path of carnage Elias had been talking about, and he will be the one to cause it. Let the bloodshed begin. Let them feel the pain and suffering that the Indios had received for the past decades. Let them feel the wrath of the people they have maltreated, discriminated, stripped from their dignity and ruined their lives._

_This is merely the prologue, the beginning of their freedom. Simoun wove the web to lure them and trap them there. There is no escape, no turning back._

* * *

Crisostomo eyes widened, and without him realizing it, tears had been coming out of his eyes, but still retaining his eye contact to the man in front of him. He swallows his saliva quietly as he opens his mouth gingerly to utter the other’s name.

“E-Elias…?” It sounds hesitant, almost as if he is reluctantly to say his name, for the fear that is this just a terrible nightmare, making his heart hopeful only to shatter that hope in the end.

Elias lips curled in a smirk, as he walks toward to Crisostomo, wiping his tears with a clean handkerchief, before cupping Crisostomo’s cheeks with both hands.

“I knew I’d find you in this timeline, my lord. “ He says teasingly, “I knew you’d come around…”

He brings his face closer to him, smiling mischievously, before continuing.

“Crisostomo.”

And he seals the distance with a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> last words Elias uttered in the fic belongs to my muse! Borrowing it, if you don't mind! :D


End file.
